Helsinki in the Rain
by Kisshulover1
Summary: He sighed out into the cold mist that was the air, his lips coming back chapped and pink, an odd mixture as his entire body - from his skin to his bones - was chilled with what felt like a shower of ice.


**So, I'm not really the best at writing this pairing, but curcur had requested it and she seemed to like it, so, here it is. I own this itty bitty story, but I do not own Hetalia. Please enjoy! This stories song is **Viens T'en **by **Mes Aiuex**. **

…

The lighter made a dull clicking noise, a shift of the metal hitting the spark and the oil within catching alight. It hissed for the sweetest of seconds before the Finn, seeing the lovely tinted blue and yellow light, pressed it eagerly to the stem of his cigarette.

The thin paper, homemade and licked tight by his lips and stuffed to brimming with fresh cut tobacco, crackled and caught.

The smoke that he didn't inhale he savored, savored until he could taste it on his tongue when he gulped at the cold air and felt it burn his nose that was undoubtedly a bight red - like the red sun that was dripping wet against the rain.

He sighed out into the cold mist that was the air, his lips coming back chapped and pink, and odd mixture as his entire body, from his skin to his bones was chilled with what felt like a shower of ice.

He sighed once more, feeling a bit lonely as he took a long bitter drag from his cigarette, the end of it burning orange for all of four seconds before his lungs began to burn and he had to blow out through his mouth and nose. Oh how he loved the smoke that curled warm around him while the mist billowed him in wet cold and heat at the same time.

But he wasn't completely alone. No, there was this man, always this man - or brute, depending on how you saw him. He was always standing opposite to Tino, well, maybe not completely opposite, maybe a bit more to the left - but he was still there.

Tino would like to think it was because of him.

Everyday he would stroll out awkwardly from his flower shop store, the bells _dinging_ above him making such a racket he would always blush red and fumble with his lighter while his fingers worked to pry a cigarette free from their cardboard prison.

Tino found him amusing and interesting - maybe even attractive if he let his mind wander enough. And endearing, the man was plenty endearing.

Even in this Helsinki rain the brute, with snow white hair that Tino suspected must have been dyed, showed his timid pink rosy face from across the street.

He was big, Tino mused as he took the last drag of his cigarette, contemplating pulling out another one before he flicked the used one onto the floor.

It hissed and shriveled in the rain.

Big and sweet looking, maybe a bit dumb, but sweet looking none the less and Tino decided that was what he needed.

He needed someone sweet with rosy cheeks and hair the color of rain and who smoked the same brand of cigarettes he did.

He needed someone who loved the rain as much as he did.

And so, he scrunched up his toes in his ruined rain boots and made his way out from under his offices plastic roofing, having his pale blond hair bombarded with heavy rain drops that stung deep into his clothes and soaked his grey and blue sweater till the colors grew heavy and dark.

But still he walked on.

Past puddles and women walking wet Irish Setters and past people like him smoking the days last cigarette.

But none of them could compare to the man with the pale pink scarf and the grey overcoat and the rain colored hair and the violet eyes so much like his own.

Nothing could compare with those timid lips that he bet tasted like peach tobacco and the salt from salmiakki.

His feet sloshed and grew stained with black and brown and the color of rain as he made his way under the eaves of the flower shop - the windows glossy with their first washing of the day and the orchids inside shown bright with purples and pale beige. Even the Sunflowers outside in great big tin barrels speckled bright with water and shone like wet suns, like the red sun above them that dripped gold.

"I love the rain." The Finn murmured softly as he stood now, next to the man with the beige coat and pink scarf.

He had a big nose - not ugly, but not handsome either. It seemed to fit him though, it made him look… nicer.

He had beautiful hair, sleek and shiny like spun silver thread that made up the stitching of Tino's overly large sweater. All sweet looking and boyish.

And those eyes that timidly flickered over to him before plucking the cigarette from his lips and flicking it into an ash tray by a small little table near the two of them, a fold out one that had a iris in a lonely glass bottle placed inside.

"I…I like it…too." He spoke slowly, as if stumbling over the words and it made Tino smile, pleased that he had not found a local but a fresh person to this city that bustled and pulsed with a life of it's own.

"I'm glad, no one else seems to." Tino puffed out a quick spurt of smoke before he turned back to his companion who was beginning to nervously wring his fingers through his scarf. Oh, he was too charming.

"My name is Tino." He said slowly in Finnish, smiling his best grin that seemed to ease the mans nerves bit by bit.

"Ivan. My name… is Ivan." The man gave the Finn his own soft smile, wetting his lips once, probably out of habit before he brought his eyes quickly to the ground.

"Ivan, may I give you a gift?" Tino asked, poising his cigarette to his lips before he took a quick nervous drag of it.

Ivan quirked one of those blond eyebrows before he nodded softly, un-easement clear in his face welled with excitement.

Tino smiled.

With gentle fingers, careful not to burn the sweet face before him, Tino took Ivan's jaws with his gloved hands, brushing the knitted thumb over the bottom of Ivan's eyes before he leaned in and kissed him deeply, softly, cautiously.

Their kiss tasted like Ivan's peach tobacco and Tino's own bitter remedy.

But it wasn't long before Tino, now feeling shyer than before, pulled back to gaze at the bemused but wide eyed man in front of him, lips curled back in a sheepish smile.

"Tino, may I give a gift to you?" He asked quickly before turning from the Finn to pluck the heavy stem of a sunflower from the tin barrel, the flower dripped wet and sweet.

Tino smiled as the large yellow flower was pressed to his hands. He looked up at the kind and interesting face of the man before him that he found he just might like more than he should have in such a short time.

He looked into the sweet eyes of the man that loved the Helsinki rain as much as he did.

…

**Oh holy shit I really liked writing this pairing not gonna' lie. Reviews? **


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